The Letter
by AmeliaDarkholme
Summary: A few months after Draco's death, Harry gave Scorpius a letter that Draco himself had written. Scorpius nearly had a heart-attack when he first read it. What was in the letter? -A Dramione


**CHARACTERS:**

Hermione Granger (89 years old) : Julie Andrews

Hermione Granger (19 years old) : Emma Watson

Draco Malfoy (88 years old) : Christopher Plummer

Draco Malfoy (18 years old) : Tom Felton

Scorpius Malfoy : Brad Pitt

Rose Weasley : Famke Janssen

Harry Potter (88 years old) : Michael Caine

**NOTES: **I know Christopher Plummer isn't blonde and is a Canadian, Brad Pitt is American and Famke Janssen is Dutch. But, oh so what, it's only a fanfiction after all... Fine, I admit, I can't choose other actors/actresses that I've chosen the instead :P

**DISCLAIMER:** Is the 30th of February yet? No? Well, that means I don't own Harry Potter - and I doubt I'll ever own this magnificent series.

* * *

_Son,_

_If you ever read this, that means I'm already dead and you're happily married with Rose Weasley, having blonde or brunette annoying teenagers as your children. I've trusted this letter to sodding Potter, hoping that he'll give you this to you I'm gone. This is probably the only letter I ever wrote for you, so read it carefully before you burn this into ashes._

_I was in love with Hermione Granger; your wife's mother. Still am, actually. She was almost nineteen, and I was eighteen when I dared to admit for the first time that I've been in love with her for ages. It was all started in my first year, right after I was Sorted to Slytherin, and Hermione was sorted to Gryffindor. It really broke my heart when I found out she was a Muggle born, knowing that your grandfather would never approve us being together. Then I thought, if I can't have her, she can never know that I've liked- no, loved her. That was why I was so mean to her._

_There's never a day passes without me regretting what I've done._

_I wrote this to you because I wish you have a far better life than mine. I know right from the beginning that you and young Rose are meant to be together; aren't like her mother and me. Supporting your marriage was probably the best thing I've ever done for the eighty-eight years I've lived in this world._

_Good luck and have a wonderful life, Scorpius._

_Your Dad,_

_Draco_

Scorpius stared at his mother-in-law's face, watching her wrinkled forehead frowned, her eyes narrowed as she read the letter in her hands. Yes, he'd go against his father wishes. He didn't burn the letter into ashes as he said in his letter, he gave the letter to Hermione instead. He had a feeling that all this time, after years of building friendships with his father, Harry Potter had known about what Draco had always felt for Hermione.

He glanced at his wife, whose eyes were only for her mother. Scorpius had told Rose about what was in the letter, and she couldn't believe her ears. For all the years Rose Weasley knew her father-in-law, she had always been under the impression that Draco didn't like Hermione the slightest bit. Draco, even though he finally became best friends with Harry Potter, and became sort of friends with her late father Ron Weasley, never showed any interest on being nice to Hermione. But, after reading the letter, Rose could now understand why Draco was so mean to Hermione.

"Mum, are you okay?" Rose said slowly. Hermione blinked her eyes and both Scorpius and Rose saw there were a few drops of tears falling.

"I never knew he felt that way," Hermione whispered. "When I first saw her, he was so nice to me. But, soon after he found out I was a Muggle-born, he acted down right cruel, mocking me as if he'd die without it."

"Actually," Harry said hesitantly. "I've known about this for a long time."

"What?" everyone said in unison.

"Well, when you were Petrified by the Basilisk, I saw Draco came visiting you in the middle of the night. I was also going to visit, wanting to tell you about the progress I've made, when I saw him there, sitting on a chair beside your bed, holding your hand. His back was hunched and he was crying. That was be the first time I saw him crying."

"Oh my God," Hermione gasped, closing her mouth. She clutched the letter tightly before she began to sob violently.

"Right, Mum, I'm taking you to your room," Rose said.

"No, I'm going to the balcony," Hermione said immediately, pushing Rose's hand aside.

"Mum, it's enough for today. I can see you're tired and – "

"No!" Hermione exclaimed. "I'm fine, Rose, and I'm going to the balcony. And you all are to stay here and not to follow me."

Satisfied that none of them were debating anymore, Hermione made her way to the balcony as quick as her tired feet allowed her too. The letter she read was killing her slowly. She couldn't lie anymore. She had always loved Draco Malfoy. Always, ever since the first time she entered his compartmen, asking whether he knew where Neville's toad was. She had fallen in love with him, despite their relatively young age. All her hopes died when she found out he was the son of the most prejudiced Pureblood family ever. She couldn't deny it that her heart was dying every time he mocked her, making her life Hell even more that anyone ever thought. She felt herself crying and she was powerless to stop it.

"Damn it," she hissed, wiping the tears impatiently.

The tears were falling profusely, clouding her eyes until she couldn't see properly. She tripped over her long coat, her wand falling off her pocket as a result. She grabbed her wand and eyed it closely. She had never cherished her wand just as much as she was at the moment. She lifted the wand, pointing the long stick on her chest. She had a brilliant smile on her face, something she hadn't done for the past few months after Draco's death.

"I'm coming, Draco," she whispered, eyes closed.

"Mum?" Rose called. "I heard noises. Are you okay?"

"_Avada Kedavra."_

* * *

Hermione's funeral was filled with thousands of people, unlike Draco's. People were coming to honor the War heroine, that the family had claimed to die from falling down the stairs. They would never admit that they beloved heroine died because she commited suicide. They would do that never to disgrace her name. Never.

Rose saw the green light of the Killing Curse flashed, but she wasn't quick enough to stop her mother from killing herself. She was sad, that was an obvious thing, but somehow, she felt happy as well. She felt happy for her mother. Deep down, since she saw the expression on her mother after she read the letter, she knew that Hermione had also harbored the same feeling for Draco Malfoy for as long as she could remember. It just seemed like the only reason.

"...now, Mrs Weasley's only daughter would like to deliver her speech. Mrs Rose Malfoy," said a round-faced man said, motioning Rose to get on stage.

"Um, hello," Rose started nervously. She was never good with public speaking. Her brother Hugo was a lot better doing that. "As you probably know, my mother died yesterday. It was I who found her lying dead on the floor. Sad isn't even the right word to describe what I felt. My mum was a great woman, there was denying. She was a great student, a great fighter, certainly a great witch. But, most important, she was a great mother. And I feel sad not only because I've lost a great witch or a great Auror, but it's more because I've lost a mother. A mother, who's bled for me, cried for me, to rise me into the woman I am. To you, she maybe the the epitome of perfection. She wasn't perfect, I tell you that. She was, to me and to my brother, a mother. The mother who I've loved since I emerged from her womb."

There were subtle sobs from a few people, and Rose herself felt like crying. But, she needed to say something. Something that she believed her mother would like her to say. "My mum died loving someone who she thought never loved her back. She's lived her years, thinking that he never loved her back. I'm happy to say that before she died, she's finally found out that he'd loved her all this years, even until the day he's closed his eyes."

Rose got down the stage, receiving applauses, shouts, flashes of camera, and other stuffs she'd always hated from having to talk in public. Only this time, she'd ignored everything. She saw Scorpius smiling at her, tears falling down his fair face.

She knew she'd done the right thing. Not only for her mother, but for Scorpius and for Draco.

* * *

Hermione opened her eyes slowly, but quickly shut them close when she was blinded by the light around her. She gave another try and was happy to know that she could finally see without lights blinding her eyes. She looked around her, finding herself in some sort of meadow. She was wearing a white satin dress, wind was playing with her short hair. Then she wondered, where was she? The last thing she remembered, she was pointing her wand at herself, saying the Kiling Curse.

"Hi, Hermione," said voice she'd always know anywhere and anytime. She whipped her head around, finding none other than Draco Malfoy himself standing there.

"Draco," Hermione breathed. Draco grinned boyishly, despite his age.

"I'm glad that my retard of a son gives you the letter instead of burning it as I told him to. If he didn't, I probably would never know that you loved me too."

"I've always loved you, Draco," Hermione said quietly. "I love you then and I love you still."

"As do I, Hermione."

"Are we...are we dead yet?" Hermion asked slowly. Draco laughed his first genuine laugh for her, and Hermione decided it sounded amazing.

"Of course, we are. You wouldn't think we've made it alive, huh? Because, I've to admit, I enjoy death pretty well."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but couldn't stop a smile from forming. "You are an arse, Draco," she spat, trying to sound angry but failed miserably.

"And you are charming," Draco said, grinning. He reached out for her, his eye brows twitching teasingly. "Take my hand, Hermione. I promise you, we'll never be apart anymore."

"Promise?" Hermione said, feeling stupid for asking such childish question.

"Promise."

When her hand touched his, she felt herself changing as Draco changed too. She was growing a bit taller, her back straightened, and she got a bit thinner like she was seventy years ago. Draco himself was changing into the young man when he was eighteen; the handsome young man that successfully made Hermione crazy every time she looked at him. Hermione grinned widely, and soon her grin was changing into laughter. Together, she and Draco walked away, hand in hand, never to be apart forever.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Thanks for reading and please review!

Amelia


End file.
